


Flight From Belhalla

by RacecarWrites



Category: Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War
Genre: Battle of Belhalla, Blood and Violence, Broken Bones, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gen, I'm Sorry, People on Fire, Spoilers, from Azelle's perspective, lots of people die, people exploding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:34:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28992273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RacecarWrites/pseuds/RacecarWrites
Summary: At long last, Sigurd and his army have arrived at Belhalla, though Azelle senses an unease in the air. He cannot shake the feeling that his brother, Arvis, has something sinister planned...***CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FOR FIRE EMBLEM: GENEALOGY OF THE HOLY WAR***
Relationships: Adean | Aideen | Edain/Lex, Azelle/Tiltyu | Tailtiu, Claud/Silvia (Fire Emblem), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Kudos: 17





	Flight From Belhalla

Azelle could not allow himself to relax. 

Lord Sigurd had reassured him that Belhalla would be safe and welcoming. Arvis had been there for them throughout Sigurd's exile and there was no reason to doubt him now. But Azelle knew his brother. Sigurd had never seen Arvis's crazed glint in his eye when he was angry, nor had to bear his biting words of criticism when he wasn't dressed properly. 

When Aida told Lord Sigurd that he and his company were to be part of a procession to meet Arvis, she had smiled warmly, and it only made Azelle think of how cold and distant Arvis's smile was. And even now, as Azelle stood on the cool, grassy plain leading up to Belhalla, with the warm sun beating down, he felt an electricity, a disquiet tension in the air. He instinctively reached for his belt, but his trusted Fire tome was absent, as the whole army was disarmed at Arvis's request. Another thing that made Azelle's blood run cold. 

Tailtiu sensed his unease and leaned closer to him, reaching for the hand that tried to grasp his tome. He turned to look her in the eye, unsure of how to communicate what he was feeling. He had alluded to Arvis's behavior in his childhood in offhand comments, and she always responded with a concerned glance but never tried to prod further than he was comfortable sharing. She offered him a gentle smile, hoping to provide some comfort, but her eyes betrayed an unknowing uneasiness. He would probably have to tell her everything, one day. 

Azelle did his best to push down his feelings, squeezed her hand with his and tried to offer a weak smile in return. Before either could say anything, a herald near the head of their procession interrupted them by announcing Arvis's arrival. 

Azelle couldn't hear what they were saying, but he saw Arvis approach Sigurd and exchange a few pleasantries. Arvis nodded, and gestured to a page nearby who brought forth a woman with pale skin and long, wavy hair. Despite her beauty, Azelle felt his heart sink upon seeing her. 

It was the Lady Deirdre, and Arvis was presenting her to Sigurd as his wife. 

Sigurd froze and called out to her. Even from this distance, Azelle could see a look of bewilderment and fear cross her face. Arvis quickly rushed her back towards the castle, the page that had brought her out practically pushing her. Azelle instinctively took a step forward, as if he had any power to stop her. Tailtiu gripped his hand tighter, uncertain of what was going on but unnerved all the same. Sigurd cried out and tried to pursue his wife, but Arvis stepped forward to stop him. He had that glint in his eyes, a look of pure malice, an expression Azelle knew well. 

Arvis lifted his arm to the sky, a gesture usually reserved for summoning magic, but it seemed to be summoning something else. The sound of many footsteps caught Azelle's attention, and he turned to see a line of mages crest the small hills that surrounded their party. The mages were dressed in Velthomer garb, and each one carried a dark red spellbook with a gold symbol on the front, a circle with flaming streaks coming off of one end. Azelle recognized the symbol immediately, though he was not sure where he had seen it before. He held his wife's hand tight, adrenaline and fear coursing through him. He turned back to his lord, who was gazing up at the mages with a look of fear that melted into anger. Azelle could clearly make out his screamed words. 

_"Arvis! You BASTAR--"_

A whoosh of flames erupted from Arvis's hand, completely and utterly engulfing Sigurd in white-hot flames. The light from it was blinding and the heat singed the hairs on Azelle's face. After what felt like an eternity, the holy power of Valflame dissipated, leaving behind a pile of ash where Sigurd stood. 

Then all hell broke loose. 

The other members of Sigurd's army cried out, some rushing at Arvis and others pushing through to find their loved ones. Alec and Naoise were caught by two guards flanking Arvis and were struck down by enemy blades. Lachesis, seeing the danger ahead, tried to guide those near the front back, turning their attention away from Belhalla just in time to see Dew, attempting to flee himself, be run through by the lance of a line of mounted knights lining the rear of their army. The air, still hot from the power of Valflame, heated more as each mage surrounding their army began casting. Sparks and embers rained down from the sky, like many burning snowflakes heralding an incoming storm. Azelle turned his attention upward to see the magic power gathering in several places above them, materializing into solid masses of flaming stone.

Azelle whipped his head to face his wife. "We need to go. NOW!" 

The two bolted towards the nearest line of mages. Chulainn was already ahead of them, hoping to push through the physically weaker enemies with his bare hands. Chulainn reared back, ready to fight, when the first Meteor attack hit. He vanished in an explosion of flame, dirt, and molten rock, stopping Azelle in his tracks before getting too close to the impact site. Tugging Tailtiu along, he sharply turned back towards the cavaliers near the rear of their army. Something hot and wet smacked against his cheek, and he reached up to brush it off with his free hand. His hand came back sticky and red from smoldering blood. Chulainn's blood. He choked back a gag and stayed on course. 

Ahead of them, some of their comrades had already reached the enemy cavaliers and were trying to face up against them unarmed. Lex had managed to avoid a lance and grabbed the horse's rider by the belt, swinging him off his mount with a rough tug. He gestured to Edain to come near and hurriedly helped her onto the horse. Its former rider was just recovering from his fall and stood up to take a swing at Lex. Lex's fist caught him off guard, years of tavern brawls preparing him for dealing fierce sucker punches, and the knight easily went down. As Lex turned back to help his wife ride off, he was grabbed from behind by a pair of mages, pinning his arms back while a third mage maneuvered himself in front of them. Before Lex could swing to defend himself, two mages stepped back, holding his arms tight, and the third mage unleashed a fire spell directly into Lex's face. The flames engulfed his face, and his body twitched violently from the pain of his searing flesh. Edain screamed, startling the horse she was riding, which bolted away from the carnage. Her husband slumped to the ground, the flames spreading to his cloak and arms. 

Azelle choked back a sob upon seeing his friend's life end so painfully; a sharp tug on his arm brought him back to his senses. Tailtiu had jerked him violently to the left just in time to avoid a meteor that struck the ground ahead of them. His wife pulled his arm tighter and he could see her mouth moving, but his ears were ringing from the explosion and he couldn't tell what she was saying. He followed her as she gestured toward Father Claud, who was shouting to them a few paces in front of Erinys, Sylvia, and Brigid. It seemed that he had a plan to get the women to safety. Azelle quickened his pace along with his wife, rushing towards the bishop, when he vanished from their view in another explosion. Where he once stood was a patch of charred earth and grass, littered with smoldering pieces of flesh. Sylvia wailed, reaching out to where her lover once stood, needing to be dragged away by Brigid and Erinys. 

Azelle glanced around, hoping to see an opening in the flames and enemies that were surrounding them. The meteor attack seemed to have concluded, and the mages were closing in around them to finish off any stragglers. Their shift in position allowed Azelle to spot the chance he needed - a small group of mounted mage knights behind the nearest line of enemy infantry. His natural resistance to magic would make these easier foes to face compared to the lance knights that felled Lex. 

He tugged Tailtiu in the direction of the knights, calling behind them to the remaining women. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the other remaining members of their army - Lachesis, Ayra, and Jamke - following his lead towards the mage knights. Together, the survivors barreled forward. 

A few infantry mages blocked their path. Jamke ducked a fire spell to tackle one, Lachesis shrugged off the flames to punch its caster in the face, and Azelle maneuvered his wife behind him while he took the brunt of a blast of flame. His years of training to be a mage combined with the hardened edge of the past years of combat to allow him to withstand the heat of magical flame, and he reeled back to swing at the mage. His fist collided with the cartilage of the mage's nose with a sickening crack, staggering the enemy just enough for Azelle to swipe the fire tome from his hands. The tome radiated heat, providing Azelle with a brief moment of security. 

_These amateurs will taste the flames of Fjalar's descendant._

Azelle swung up his free arm to cast fire at the mage he just disarmed. As he lacked the resilience of his holy-blooded attacker, his clothes and hands burst into flame, leaving him screaming and trying desperately to put out the fire. Azelle turned towards the mage that Jamke attacked, who to his surprise had gained the upper hand against the prince of Verdane. Jamke was on the ground, clutching his head to protect it from the fiery blast that the enemy mage was casting upon him. Azelle's flames burned hotter and faster, hitting the foe in the chest and flinging him back several feet. Jamke wailed in pain, his hands and face looking more akin to a spit-roast than to human flesh. Unable to help his comrade, Azelle turned towards the soldier that Lachesis attacked just in time to see her with her arms around his neck, slowly choking the life out of him. As he went limp, she grabbed the tome off of his belt and joined Azelle and the others. 

Luckily, they didn't have to travel far to get to the mounted mage knights, as they had pressed forward to close in on the survivors' position. Tailtiu had grabbed the fire tome from Jamke's attacker, making her, Lachesis, and Azelle no longer unarmed. The three of them steeled themselves between the mage knights and their unarmed comrades. 

Azelle nodded to Lachesis and returned Tailtiu's determined gaze. Together, each one raised an arm, gathering magical power at their fingertips. The air, thick with ash and heat, ignited around their hands as each one cast forward. Azelle's flames were the strongest and hottest, hitting the enemy mage squarely in the head and knocking it back with a sharp snap. His body was instantly lifeless and slumped from his horse, still burning. Tailtiu's flames were not as strong, but they were fast, catching her opponent off-guard and lighting his cloak ablaze. He shifted wildly in his panic, losing his balance and tumbling from his mount. 

Lachesis, however, was not trained as a mage, and the foe was able to block her blast of fire. Reeling back, he lifted his tome into the air, dark red with a word in an ancient script adorning the front of it. 

_Bolganone._

The ground beneath Lachesis shifted in the heat of his cast, cracking and buckling with flames beginning to poke through. The shift caught Lachesis off-balance, unable to defend herself from the magic she was about to endure. Suddenly she felt a sharp tug on her arm, and her body was propelled backwards. She hit the ground and looked up to see Ayra, one of her few close friends in the army, standing where she once stood on the molten ground. Ayra looked back at her friend with sorrow and resignment in her eyes. Before Lachesis could reach out to return the favor of saving her life, the ground beneath Ayra erupted. 

Azelle closed the gap between himself and the Bolganone mage, grabbing his arm and pulling him off his horse with a swift tug. He hit the ground head first with a loud crack, and stopped moving. The flames from his cast had dissipated, leaving the ground charred and smoldering - with no sign of Ayra. Azelle glanced up at Lachesis, her face agape with shock and horror before twisting into a look of determined rage. She whipped around towards Erinys, Brigid, and Sylvia, shouting at them and gestured to the two free horses. The remaining women scrambled towards the horses as Azelle turned to focus on getting his woman on the horse by them. 

He swung himself up with a swift motion and turned back to Lachesis. "Princess, we must--" 

"Get out of here, Azelle." Lachesis stared down the remaining mages and soldiers heading their way. "I'll hold off these ruffians. Keep them safe." 

The confidence in her voice was enough to assure Azelle she would be alright - if not by fighting, she would surely find another way to escape. Next to him, Erinys had settled onto one horse while Sylvia and Brigid shared the other. After a brief adjustment in the saddle, Azelle spurred his horse into a gallop, holding his wife close to his chest, and the last survivors fled from the smoking remains of the field. 

Tailtiu turned towards him and buried her face into his chest, choking back tears. His wife's expression of emotion took him out of the adrenaline of the moment and let the events that occurred sink in. Arvis, his only brother, his last remaining family, had tried to kill him. He killed Lord Sigurd. He ordered the deaths of all of his friends. Arvis, who had made the promise to protect Azelle as a child, had betrayed him. 

Azelle's heart sunk. If only he had said something, did something, anything that would have made him a better brother. Perhaps if he didn't run off to help Sigurd save Lady Edain, he might have somehow prevented all of this. Arvis was a good brother and a good man, there was no way he could just suddenly snap like this. 

Then the memories came flooding back. Memories of Arvis's anger, his frustration at the current state of Jugdral, his passion to improve the world at any cost. One time, several years ago, Azelle came into Arvis's study as he was organizing a large stack of new tomes. The two of them discussed at length their feelings on magic and combat, Azelle periodically cracking jokes to make his brother laugh. 

Then Azelle remembered where he had seen the symbol on the Meteor tomes before. Those were the tomes Arvis was organizing that night. 

Arvis had been preparing for this day for a very, _very_ long time. 

The full brunt of his brother's betrayal and the sorrow of losing his friends sinking in, Azelle held his sobbing wife close to him, unknown of what the future would hold for them. He only hoped and prayed that they would reach a safe haven far from the cruelty of Lord Arvis. He had once hoped that he could go back to the good times he had with Arvis, but those hopes were sufficiently dashed, snuffed out like the lives of Lord Sigurd, Sir Alec, Sir Naoise, Lord Lex, and all their other comrades. 

The love he once had for his brother was gone. Only hatred and pain remained.

**Author's Note:**

> _And so Sigurd's tale has come to an end..._
> 
> This is also inspired by another piece of mine from a few months ago: https://twitter.com/RacecarArt/status/1320533232333578245?s=20
> 
> I wanted to take a crack at adapting this event and also practice writing action ~~and violence~~. I hope you all...enjoyed it? somehow? idk how this works lol. But I appreciate you taking the time to read it all the same. :) Have a great day!


End file.
